“Find the red door,” the note said. “Climb up, then up some more.”
Michael felt a smile spread inside his belly. Helen never could resist a rhyme. It’s how he knew it had to be her. Even after all this time. Even when the printed letters could have been typed by anyone.
He knew.
And it warmed a place in him that he had forgotten could be thawed.
The basement’s entrance was not much to look at. The stairs and walls had all seen better days.
So had they.
And yet, there they were.
Climbing up, then up some more.
For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers
Photo prompt: © Roger Bultot
Awww… I love this, Na’ama! Such a sweet tale!
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🙂 Thank you, my friend! This looks a lot like a NYC building … I wonder if the photo was taken in the City. These old buildings have a lot of stories to tell. 🙂
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Hmm… You’d have to ask Roger 😉
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Yep. We’ll see if it’ll come up in other comments … 😉 But, either way, it feels familiar as far as the ‘decor’ … 😉
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LOL ! I have faith.
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We all need stories of hope these days
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Amen to that, Neil! And it is the small things, often, that make for hope’s thread.
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Na’ama Y’karah,
Who doesn’t enjoy a story of enduring love? Sweet story.
Yes, the building is in NYC. Roger lives there and is constantly sending pictures. 😀
Shalom,
Rochelle aka Baby Snooks 😉
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AHA! I do love it when I’m proven right! 🙂
Gotta check with Roger where in NYC he is.
🙂
Na’ama
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Lower East Side, near Chinatown. 😀
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Short, sweet and effective.
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